Conventions of Christmas
by Kerrison
Summary: A last minute change in plans gives both Brennan and Booth a different kind of Christmas than either had planned.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Many thanks go out to d'angeli for her awesome help with this story. It started as a silly idea over a lunch break and turned into a fun piece to actually write. You won't find any deep character study here, folks. Just a fun holiday piece.  
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**Hope you all enjoy. **

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"Rebecca, it's not that simple," Booth said into the phone, leaning his head back to rest against the door frame he was currently propped against.

"Seeley, he's your son. This is the first time I've ever asked you to take him over Christmas."

"That's because it's always been a _family_ holiday," Booth replied. "We've always spent it together."

"Well, this year, Brent wants to get away – just the two of us. Come on, Seeley. Please?"

Booth sighed. "Fine. Fine. You know I love having him. I just wish I had a little more notice so I could have asked for a few days off, that's all."

"Brent just told me today."

The hair on Booth's neck stood in anger. "He does know that having a kid in the family means he can't just change things on the drop of a hat, right? This isn't the first step to you guys wanting to ship Parker off to some military academy, is it?"

"No," Rebecca sighed. "We both love him, you know that. We just need a little private time to … Seeley he and I have- we've got to sort out where our relationship is going. And it's a cabin in the mountains of North Carolina. There will be snow, and caroling, and sleigh rides and it'll be romantic. I'm a woman. I need a little romance every now and then. Give me this one time, please?"

Booth closed his eyes and bit back the wave of frustration. "Enjoy North Carolina. Send me a postcard."

*~*

"Dr. Bones! Dr. Bones!" the blonde headed boy streaked into her office and headed straight for her, barely giving Temperance Brennan enough time to set her mug of coffee back on her desk before she was wrapped in a tight hug.

He buried his head into her stomach and squeezed tightly.

"Hi Parker," she replied with a grin, wrapping her arm around him and gently squeezing him in return.

"Put on your coat, Dr. Bones," he said in a rush of words, tilting his head back to look at her with the type of affection only children can offer.

"My coat?"

"We're going to get a Christmas tree!" he replied, loosening his grip and reaching for the coat that was draped over the back of the office arm-chair.

Brennan reached for the coat Parker held out, but her movement was stilled when she heard Booth's voice bellow down the hall, clearly less than pleased at his son.

"Parker!"

The young boy looked up, his eyes wide. Like all children, he knew the 'you're in trouble' voice.

Brennan took the coat from the boy's grip and smiled reassuringly at him as she slid her arms into the sleeves.

"Parker, I told you not to go barging into Dr. Brennan's office," he chastised, coming around the door and glaring at his son. "Sorry, Bones."

"It's quite alright, Booth," she said, reaching into her coat pockets and tugging out her winter hat and gloves.

"Alright, Parker. I'm ready," she said, grabbing her purse and shouldering it quickly.

"Ready for what?" Booth queried, watching as his son grabbed the woman's hand tightly and started tugging her towards the door.

"Apparently we're going to get a Christmas tree," she explained, laughing lightly as the young boy tugged her out of her office, right past his father.

Brennan reached out, snagging Booth by the elbow and pulling him along.

*~*


	2. Chapter 2

*~*

They watched as the young boy darted up and down the rows of the tree-farm, their shoes crunching on the snow.

"You didn't have to come," Booth said, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, trying to ward off the chilly sting of December air.

"That's true," She rubbed her hands together, despite their gloved state, trying to warm her fingers. "But I can't remember the last time I went tree-shopping. And there isn't anything on my desk that can't wait until tomorrow."

She sighed and watched as the child she had grown to care very much for darted around another tree. "Besides, he seemed really eager for me to come. I'm not sure why."

"Parker and Rebecca pick out a tree together every year," he said, by way of explanation.

She nodded. "I find it very odd that she decided to leave her son on Christmas. It's the most important holiday for your faith, isn't it?"

"Eh." Booth shrugged. "Christmas and Easter are kinda neck-and-neck. And I'm not really happy about her bailing on us, either, but… the silver lining is that I get Parker all week. We don't get to do that over holidays, so this is a nice change."

"Usually you just go over for presents on Christmas Day, right?" she asked, trying to remember years past.

He nodded in reply. "Parker and I will go shopping for Rebecca's presents whatever weekend I have him before the holidays. Then I go over on Christmas day and take him to Mass. We go back to Rebecca's and do gifts. Then I head home."

"From what I know of Christmas tradition, it seems as if there's quite a bit that you haven't participated in," she said, her voice gentle as to not sound as if she was throwing salt into a wound.

Booth nodded. "It's not an ideal set-up for me. But it's easiest on Rebecca. And Parker's never complained."

"I imagine it's difficult to complain about something when you don't know what the alternatives are," Bones offered.

"This year we'll do all the fun stuff. Go visit Santa at the mall, then we'll leave carrots out for the reindeer…" his voice trailed slightly. "It'll be nice."

They walked a bit further, sure to keep an eye out for Parker in his bright blue winter jacket and cap as he wove in and out of the trees.

"No Guatemalan-mummy dig type thing this year?" he asked.

"The dig got postponed. I fly out on the twenty-fourth," she said.

"That's Christmas Eve."

"Yes," she said. "Also known to non-Christians as December twenty-fourth." She bumped his shoulder with hers, looking up and offering him a surreptitious wink to show that she wasn't being intentionally disrespectful of his beliefs.

Booth resisted the urge to smirk at her cheeky behavior.

"Dad! Dad!" Both adults looked up to see Parker running straight for them, his face full of joy. "I found the perfect one!"

*~*


	3. Chapter 3

*~*

Brennan frowned, biting her lip in concentration. Threading popcorn was significantly more challenging than she had ever anticipated. If she pierced the kernel the wrong way, it would crumple in her hand.

"Mom never lets us do popcorn, dad. She says it makes too much of a mess. This is awesome," Parker said, sneaking a bite of popcorn out of the bowl in front of Bones.

"That's why I own a vacuum, Parker," Booth said wryly, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. He was laying on the floor, screwing the tree into the tree-stand.

The boy put the recently smuggled bite of popcorn in his mouth and chewed before speaking. "Bones, do you want to go home and get your ornaments to put on the tree?"

Booth felt his heart skip a beat as his son so openly invited Bones into their family's traditions.

"I don't have any ornaments," Brennan said simply, her eyes never leaving the needle and kernel in front of her face.

"No ornaments?" Parker asked, his eyes wide.

Booth stood, having finally finished setting up the tree. He watched as his son regarded Bones with awe.

Brennan lowered the popcorn and needle and looked at the young man with an even gaze. "When I was older than you, my parents went away and I went to live in the foster-system. I didn't live with my parents or my brother. I wasn't allowed to take any ornaments from our home with me. I don't have any family-ornaments, Parker."

"Don't you decorate a tree at your house now that you're a grown-up?"

Brennan shook her head and resumed threading the popcorn. "No. I don't celebrate Christmas. Every year I go to an archaeological dig over the holidays."

"Oh. That doesn't sound much like _Christmas_," the boy stated. "I think you should have Christmas with us, Bones."

Booth wiped his hands on his jeans. "Parker, Bones has plans for the holiday already. She can't just change them last-minute."

Brennan grinned at both of the Booth men standing in front of her. "It's very nice of you both to include me into your family traditions. I appreciate the invitation, Parker, but I don't know that I'll be able to make it this year."

The young boy pouted momentarily before grabbing the long string of popcorn. "Guess you'll just have to help us decorate while you're here," he said, moving towards his father and the two began to string the pop-corn around the tree.

Brennan grabbed the camera Booth had on the end-table and snapped a photo of the two decorating the tree. She smiled, watching as they wove the popcorn amongst the branches.

"Bones, come help!" Parker said, reaching into the cardboard box at his feet, and holding a glass-ball towards Bones.

Brennan stood, laughed with Parker as Booth struggled to keep his own ornament on the tree. She took the ball from the boy's outstretched hand and enjoyed the holiday festivities for the first time since childhood.

*~*

Booth leaned back, resting his head against the back of the sofa. He didn't know when decorating for Christmas became so exhausting.

"It's beautiful." She watched the lights flicker on the tree, sparkling against the glass balls and tinsel.

Her soft speech startled him from his reverie and he turned his head towards Bones. "It is," he agreed, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Parker seems to have enjoyed himself," Brennan said, taking her gaze from the tree and turning to regard her partner.

"That kids all about the holidays," Booth replied with a grin, sipping from the mug of cocoa in his hands.

She nodded. "Is he upset about Rebecca not being here?"

"He was at first. I mean, it's hard for a kid his age to understand why mom wants a private vacation with the boyfriend." Booth shrugged. "But he got the idea in his head to invite you along on our tree-shopping quest," he said, mocking the words. "And I hate to say it, but I don't think he's thought about her since."

Brennan frowned. "So you're saying for this holiday, I'm his surrogate mother?"

"No," Booth said with a chuckle. "I'm saying that he was excited he gets to share his favorite holiday with someone he cares about."

"I care about him, too," she offered. "He's a very good kid, Booth."

Booth grinned with pride. "He really is. I'm pretty lucky."

"I don't believe there's any 'luck' involved. I imagine that with such a great male role-model as a father, it'd be rather difficult to be anything but a good kid."

Booth blinked. "Bones, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," he smiled at her, his eyes bright. "Thank you."

"It's the truth," she said, returning his smile with one of her own.

Parker was still rummaging in the two boxes of decorations Booth had managed to pull from storage. "Hey Dad!" he said, having reached the bottom of the box. They watched as he tugged something out. "We forgot to hang up this thing!"

He held the kissing-ball over his head, the decorative hanging ribbon clutched in his fingers.

"We don't have to hang that this year, Park," Booth replied, chuckling at his son.

"Why not?" The boy's face was crestfallen.

"Mom's not here to kiss your cheek, is she?" Booth asked, standing and taking the kissing-ball from his son's hand and moving to set it back in the box.

"But Bones is," Parker said, trying hard to keep the whine out of his voice.

Booth shot a somewhat hesitant look at his amused partner on the sofa.

"If I'm filling the role," she muttered with a shrug, giving him permission to humor his son.

Booth rolled his eyes and grabbed a thumbtack from the decorations-box. He moved over the hall-door, inserting the thumbtack just over the door jamb and then draping the ribbon over the tack, letting the ball dangle and spin slightly.

"Happy?" he said to his son, his tone joking but inquisitive.

Parker nodded and stepped under the decoration. "K, Bones. It's tradition. You have to kiss me and tell me a secret."

Brennan frowned. "I've never heard that to be part of the history of mistletoe and kissing balls."

Booth chuckled. "It's a Booth tradition, Bones. Not one you'd learn in history books."

"Oh," Bones said, nodding as she stood from the sofa and studied Parker with a careful eye.

She ducked and kissed the boy on the cheek, pulling him into a tight hug. She whispered: "You always make me very happy, Parker."

Parker hugged her back but laughed. "That's not a _secret_, Bones."

"You're right," Brennan replied. "I'll do better next time."

The two parted, and Booth spoke up. "Time for bed, kiddo. Go get washed up and pick out your book for the night. I'll come tuck you in soon."

Booth watched as Brennan turned, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He waited the heartbeat until he heard the door to the bathroom shut behind Parker then he stepped forward and gently kissed Brennan on the cheek. "You make me pretty damned happy too, Bones," he whispered before stepping down the hall and into Parker's room.

She felt her cheeks heat from the unsolicited attention. She grabbed the now-empty mugs of cocoa, putting them in the sink. Brennan tugged on her winter coat and made sure the front door closed quietly behind her as she headed out for the night.

*~*


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Many thanks to d'angeli for dealing with me through this. This was an exceptionally challenging chapter to write. But hopefully you won't hate it! **

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*~*

"Sweetie, do you have a terminal disease?" Angela asked, stepping into Brennan's office, a disbelieving look on her face.

Brennan was pulling her woolen gloves onto her hands, her winter coat already firmly cinched around her waist. "What are you talking about, Angela?"

"This is the second time this week you've left the office early. You're usually here at all hours during the holidays. But this year, you're running off every afternoon."

"All of my paperwork is done, Angela. I don't believe there's anything here that requires my attention," Brennan replied, her tone a bit defensive.

Angela rolled her eyes and ignored her friend's reaction. "Hey, I'm glad you're getting out of here. This will be the first year the rest of us haven't felt like slackers over the holidays. Go! Be Merry. Have fun!"

Brennan grinned. "I'm going to take Parker to see Santa."

Angela gawked. "You're doing what? Not only do you not celebrate Christmas, but you also think Santa is evil."

"Santa himself is not evil, Ange," Brennan replied, shouldering her purse. "A fictitious character representing good will cannot be 'evil'… but the character has damaged society."

Angela held up her hands, forestalling the discussion she had heard many times. "I know, I know. Greed, consumerism, … blah blah blah. But you're still taking Parker to see Santa?"

"No. _Booth_ is taking him. Parker just invited me to come along," she said, trying to infer that there was an actual difference in the two.

"Uh huh. Whatever, Sweetie. Have fun. Don't get arrested for harassing Saint Nick, ok?"

Brennan rolled her eyes at Angela's wit, but a full smile covered her face when the two Booth men strolled into her office, each bundled in their winter wear in deference to the snow outside.

"Hey Angela," Booth greeted and grinned as Parker casually gave Angela a high-five when the woman strolled past.

"Booth. Little Booth," Angela said by way of greeting to the two men.

She moved past them and out the door of Brennan's office, turning to get another at her friends. Parker had sidled up to Brennan and engaged her in what _had _to be a fascinating discussion based on the way Brennan was enraptured in the boy's words. Booth stood to the side and just watched the two with absolute adoration on his face.

Smiling, she made a mental note of the scene and scurried off to her office, itching to grab her pastels.

*~*

"I'm proud of you," Booth said to her, walking shoulder to shoulder as Parker ran along the path ahead.

The boy was burning off the energy he had accumulated while standing in line to see Santa for over an hour. He ran in circles through the snow in the park, leaving foot-tracks in various designs and occasionally dropping to his back to make a snow angel.

"For what?" she asked.

"You didn't say one mean thing about Santa the entire time we were there," he replied.

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Contrary to what you may think, I do have some sense of propriety. I'm not going to ruin your son's childhood, Booth."

"And I appreciate that," he wrapped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer as they walked.

"I still believe that he should understand that Santa represents commercialism… it's just not my place to tell him that," she said, her voice somewhat disappointed.

Booth squeezed her shoulder. "Kids are only kids for a short period of time. Letting them believe in Santa doesn't really hurt anything. I would have _loved _for my childhood to last longer than it did." His voice hardened as he spoke of his youth. "Its hard when you learn that life isn't all sunshine and flowers…." he trailed off, realizing he had gotten off topic. "Santa's a nice idea. I'll let him have it for as long as I can."

She nodded simply, knowing that to Booth, Santa didn't represent commercialism or greed, but instead represented a time when your dad wasn't an alcoholic or a bank robber and you didn't have to pack your belongings to go live with your grandfather or in foster-care.

She, too, longed for the days when she didn't know just how much life could suck.

They strolled in companionable silence, her arm having found its way around his waist as they walked, balancing out his embrace with one of her own.

Parker had stopped and joined an impromptu snow-ball fight with other neighborhood children and the sound of laughter filled the park.

Brennan found her gaze wandering and she stood, looking up at the silver-birch branch above her.

"Please tell me there's not a finger in the tree," Booth groaned, slipping his arm away and following her gaze.

"Not a finger, no," she replied. "But a large growth of mistletoe. Can you reach it?"

Booth stretched up, gently bending the slender branch down and plucking off a large portion of the parasitic growth before handing it to his partner. "Real Mistletoe," he commented as he released the branch. "Looks different than the plastic stuff."

She nodded and twirled the foliage in her fingers, examining it. "It'll be educational for Parker to see what the real thing looks like as opposed to the plastic leaves on your kissing-ball."

Booth grinned. "Only you would take one of the most romantic parts of a holiday and turn it into an educational experience."

"He is at an important age for brain development, Booth. It's important to seize every opportunity-"

She felt his gloved finger settle over her lips mid-word and she was effectively shushed.

"Thank you for thinking about his education," Booth said, trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

She waited until he removed his finger before frowning. "Did I really ruin the romance of mistletoe?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I have very fond memories of mistletoe," Booth quipped with a grin. He winked at her and watched as she fought off a light blush, obviously remembering their mistletoe-kiss several Christmas's ago.

She felt the corners of her mouth curl upwards, unable to fight off a smile. "In Pagan practices, the non-poisonous varieties of mistletoe are actually used as fertility aids. But kissing under the mistletoe is actually a Norse tradition."

"Bones, all I need to know about mistletoe is that is that when there is a beautiful woman standing under it, I'm supposed to kiss her."

Brennan arched an eyebrow at him in amusement. "It has a fascinating history," she said, stepping closer to him and folding her hands along the collar of his coat. She slipped the stalk of mistletoe into his button-hole and smiled. "But I don't know that the tradition mentions what to do if you're _wearing _mistletoe instead of standing under it."

He couldn't help but grin at the playful expression on her face and noted how her hand had not moved from his lapel.

Brennan reached up slightly, settling her other hand on his shoulder and feeling some of the tension leave her body when she felt his hands settle on her hips. "Perhaps we can create a new tradition?"

She leaned up and closed the space between them, hesitantly covering his lips with her own. He was so still under her and she moved to pull away, thinking his lack of reaction meant disinterest. Instead she felt his grip tighten on her hips, tugging her impossibly closer.

Booth tilted his head, getting a better feel to the contour of her mouth. The warmth was overwhelming. Feeling bold, he traced her lower lip with his tongue.

She didn't yield her mouth to him, but it wasn't for lack of want.

Brennan sharply pulled away, stifling a squeal. She had bitten down hard on her lip.

Booth frowned, and quickly took stock of the situation. Bone's head and neck were covered in snow, and she moved quickly brushing the powdery ice-cold dust from her neck in an effort to keep it from trailing down her back.

He looked up and saw Parker standing within snow-ball distance, his face torn between amusement and regret. "Sorry!" the boy called before turning and heading back into the fray of the snow-ball fight.

Booth found himself reaching out and brushing the last of the snow off her coat before stilling her with a gentle grip to her shoulder. "You ok?" he asked, his gloved thumb tracing the harsh mark on her lip.

Brennan nodded. "He startled me. I wasn't expecting that."

"That's why he did it," Booth replied with a chuckle. His thumb traced her lip again. Booth swiftly ducked his head, capturing the injured lip with his own and ever so softly laving it with attention.

He felt her breath still in surprise before she relaxed into him, her own gloved fingers playing with the fine hairs on the back of his head.

Booth pulled back and watched her glassy look return to close-to-normal. He pulled her into a tight hug and enjoyed the crush of her warm body against his own.

*~*


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I've been told that what you're about to read is pure romantic fluff. Just be warned. As usual, errors are mine.**

**If you like it, thank d'angeli. If you hate it, blame me. **

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She was contentedly curled on her couch, an afghan covering her legs and a book balanced on her lap bent knees.

Brennan reached for the steaming mug of tea on the coffee table, startling slightly at the sound of a sharp rap of knuckles on her door.

"Bones!" an eager voice called through the door and Brennan couldn't help but grin at the sound of Parker's enthusiastic voice.

Brennan started to unwrap herself from her warm spot on the couch "Just a moment," she called out.

She stopped, however, when the door handle turned and a blonde head scurried into the apartment, oblivious to the chastising uttering from his father.

"Parker, you don't just walk into someone's home!"

"But its _Bones_, Dad," Parker said, rolling his eyes. "Last time we was here, she said to make myself at home. So I'm at home!"

Brennan managed to stifle the chuckle that bubbled inside her. The boy's logic was flawless and, truth be told, she enjoyed the fact that the younger Booth felt at home in her apartment. She watched silently as he set his backpack on the floor before shedding his winter coat and jumping to try to hang it on the hooks.

Booth tisked, shutting the door and making a point of flipping the deadbolt. He turned his steely gaze to his partner, still curled on the sofa. "Would you please lock the door!? We could have been murderers!"

"George wouldn't have let you in if you were murderers," Brennan replied, referring to the security guard who doubled as a doorman in the lobby of her building.

"We're not murderers, Dad," Parker corrected, grabbing his backpack and heading to the sofa, immediately climbing up and snuggling into Brennan's side. "We're _carolers._"

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Carolers?"

"We went caroling with the group from church. We got to sing 'Rudolph' and 'Silent Night' and 'Frosty.' But 'Rudolph' is my favorite…" Brennan nodded as the boy continued to babble about the night, filled with snow-angels and Christmas Carols. "And then after caroling, we went to see Grandpa. They had their holiday dinner tonight so we got Turkey _early,_" he continued. "It wasn't that good, though."

"It sounds like you had a busy night," Brennan said, watching as Booth finally moved, joining them on the sofa, effectively sandwiching Parker between the two adults.

She met his eyes and a soft smile crossed her lips when she felt his fingers gently trace her elbow, only the softest whisper of a touch. He grinned and managed to surreptitiously waggle an eyebrow, a flirty look on his face.

"It was fun," Parker said, nodding. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a silver-paper wrapped box with a bright blue bow. "This is from Grandpa. He said to give this to you."

Parker leaned up on the sofa and pecked Brennan on the cheek the way only a child could. "He said to do that, too," he explained. "And tell you 'Merry Christmas.'"

"What's this for?

"It's for you, Bones," Booth explained, as if it was obvious. "It's Christmas. It's the season for an exchange of presents. Anthropologically speaking Christmas is the time when - "

He was cut off by the firm glare she gave him. She didn't appreciate being mocked, but she knew he meant it in good humor and she therefore resisted the urge to dress him down in front of his son.

"Well, if we're exchanging gifts…," Brennan started, setting the box on the coffee table and untangling herself from the blankets and people on the sofa. She quickly ducked into her bedroom and returned with a large brown bag with several boxes in it. She reached inside and pulled out what seemed to be heavy package, wrapped in simple brown paper and tied with a string.

"This is for you," she handed the package to Booth before handing the large bag, still filled with various colorfully wrapped presents, to Parker. "And these are for you."

"Wow!" the boy said, looking into the bag with awe. He moved to settle onto the floor in front of the coffee table. "Thanks, Bones!"

"You don't even know what they are, Parker. How can you thank me yet?"

She grinned at the boy, watching as he carefully pulled the packages out of the bag and planned his attack. Brennan resumed her seat on the sofa, this time significantly closer to Booth, Parker having abandoned his seat in the middle.

His arm, which had been draped across the back of the sofa, now settled onto her far shoulder and tugged her slightly closer.

"Are you going to open your present?" she asked, watching as his free hand toyed with the string tying the package shut.

He half shrugged and pulled the string from the brown paper, gently helping the wrappings fall open.

She was sitting so close that her shoulder half-rested against his chest. She felt his breathing still momentarily as he took in the dark leather cover of the obviously antique book.

A beautifully kept copy of  The Art of War lay on Booth's lap and he felt his hand run across the richly grained leather.

"This is amazing," he grinned, hesitating as he opened the cover.

He was surprised to find a bright blue post-it note on the inside baring her gentle scrawl.

"_A Leader leads by example, not by force." _

_Friendship can offer as much risk and as many wounds as a battlefield. _

_Only a truly gifted Leader could keep us both safe on this journey for this long. _

_I consider myself lucky. _

_~Bones_

"I know a post-it note isn't very festive," she explained, breaking his daze as he re-read the words. "But, that copy is several hundred years old. I wasn't going to deface the book with an inscription."

He looked at her in something akin to awe, not able to formulate words.

Months ago, almost a full year ago, he had thrown out a passing comment about how he would have liked to own a copy of Sun Tzu's The Art of War. And somehow she not only remembered, but managed to obtain what was probably the oldest copy in the United States. And it was his present.

None of that even addressed the honest and touching post-it-inscription that he was sure he would re-read more often than he would ever read the book.

"This is amazing. Thank you," he finally said.

"If you'd prefer something else, the bookstore will happily exchange it."

Booth shook his head. "No. Temperance, this is fantastic. Thank you," he said. His words were firm but his voice still soft.

The quiet moment was interrupted, however, when Parker squealed from his spot on the floor, finally having ripped the paper off of his first gift.

"A Chemistry set! This is awesome!"

Bones grinned at his excitement, tucking her legs back under herself on the sofa and pulling the blanket around her. She felt Booth slip his hand down her shoulder, squeezing slightly before his thumb began to absently trace patterns through her sweater.

"If he blows up my apartment, you're paying to get it fixed," Booth whispered in her ear and Brennan couldn't help but chuckle.

"Parker, Hodgins and Mr. Nigel-Murray have agreed to help you with that," she explained to the boy. "You can take it to the lab next week when your father says its ok. I believe they both have some fun experiments in mind."

"Thank god," she heard Booth mutter. "Are you going to open that?" he asked, vaguely gesturing to the silver-box still on the table.

She shrugged. "Why did your grandfather send me a present?"

"Because he likes you. And it's the holidays."

"I don't understand – I just met him a few weeks ago. I'm not family, Booth."

Booth silenced her with a look. "Family is what you make it, Bones. And as far as Pops is concerned, you're family. Open the present. I wanna know what he got you."

"You don't know?"

"It was a surprise to me, too," Booth said, watching as she gently slid a nail along the tape, trying to not rip the paper. "Parker gave him a hug before we left and Pops just pulled out this box, and told Parker to give it to you and wish you Merry Christmas."

She smiled. "And give me a kiss?"

Booth rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. "Yeah. I'm not sure why he didn't tell _me _to do that, though. Presents. Pretty girls. Kid gets all the fun."

Brennan chuckled, sliding closer into his casual half-embrace as she pulled the top off the box.

Her breath caught in her throat and she felt her hand tremble slightly. "Booth-" she whispered, shocked at the sparkling silver and sapphire necklace and matching earrings in the box.

"Wow," Booth breathed, looking at the necklace and not able to fight the grin on his features as recognition dawned on him.

"This is too much. He shouldn't have purchased this, Booth," she said. "He should save his money and enjoy his retirement."

"He didn't purchase it, Bones," Booth said, his hand gently pulling the necklace out of the box and holding it in front of her. "This was my Grandmother's." Her eyes went wide and Booth couldn't help but notice how the bright sapphire made her eyes even more vibrant. "He bought these for my Grandmother before he shipped off to the war."

"I don't understand," she said, her gaze flitting between his face and the necklace in front of her.

"He wants you to have it," was Booth's only answer.

"I don't understand," she repeated.

"There's nothing to understand, Bones. Pops likes you. He wants you to have something that's important to him."

"No, Booth. You or Jared should give it to someone important to _you_. Its your family's history."

"You're our family, too, Bones." he said, shifting his hands around her and unclasping the necklace. He draped the simple and elegant sapphire and sterling necklace around her neck, leaning back so he could see as he re-clasped the fastener.

She looked down and couldn't help but finger the jewelry as it rest just above her cleavage.

"Beautiful," he said with a firm nod, regarding the jewelry in its new home.

"Booth, no one has ever given me jewelry before," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper.

He placed a gentle kiss to the side of her temple. "Then it's long overdue, Bones."

She looked down at the matching earrings, still resting on the velvet padding in the jewelry box. "Sapphire is my birth-stone."

"It was my grandmother's too," Booth commented. "Small world, huh?"

Brennan bit her lip, refusing to spout statistical probabilities regarding the ratio of birth-months to babies and birthstones. It wasn't important – something she was learning to discern from Booth.

After a few moments of companionable silence as the two watched Parker examine the books and educational toys she had spoiled him with, Booth shifted and reached into Parker's backpack, pulling out two packages wrapped in the Sunday Comics.

One, obviously wrapped by Parker's unsteady childish hands. And the other only marginally more skillful.

"This is from Parker," Booth said, handing her the mal-formed bundle.

Brennan gently pulled off the heavily-taped comics and found what appeared to be a sled made from popsicle sticks.

"I've had a brain-freeze for two days," Booth whispered in her ear. "I'll be happy to never see a popsicle again."

"Thank you."

Booth shook his head. "Don't thank me. Parker did all the work."

The young boy, having heard his name, had turned his attention to the adults snuggled on the sofa. "It's for your tree next year, Bones. So you have your own ornaments."

Brennan grinned, holding up the popsicle-sled by the ribbon and understanding now its purpose as a tree-ornament. "It's lovely, Parker. Thank you very much."

"I had some trouble with the words on the back, but dad helped."

Booth reached up and flipped the sled over, holding it still so Brennan could read the childish scrawl in black sharpie.

_Bones. Dad. Parker. Christmas 2009._

"Mom puts our names and dates on all of our family ornaments," he casually shrugged and returned to reading the book on Ancient Egypt that Brennan had gifted him.

She couldn't speak, not knowing what words would accurately sum her feelings.

"Told you that you're family," Booth said softly in her ear. "Now you have an ornament to prove it."

"I don't have a tree," she managed to reply, shock still clearly on her face.

"I guess you're going to have to hang it on our tree next year. I'll save ya a spot." Booth shrugged. He handed her the final package, watching as she cautiously set the popsicle-sleigh down, treating it with the same reverence as she treated her precious bones. "Its not anything fancy like heirloom jewelry."

She cautiously tore the newsprint away and a genuine smile took over her face as she read the spine of the DVD Box set.

Somehow he had managed to find a box-set of her favorite movie, "The Mummy" including the four companion-films which had become virtually impossible to find in common media.

He half-shrugged by way of response to her excited and inquisitive look. "I know you liked it…"

"I only mentioned it once. How did you remember? This is … Thank you, Booth."

"I remembered the same way you remembered about my book, Bones. It's what you do when you care about someone; you remember the little things."

They both fell into a reflective silence, their eyes settling on Parker as he studiously unpacked the Chemistry set, looking through the microscope at anything which would fit under the lens.

She finally broke the silence, her voice soft and oddly demure. "Booth, I think I'm beginning to understand the draw of this holiday. Does it always leave you feeling so…" she trailed off, looking for the right word.

"Loved?" he supplied, smiling warmly at her. "Yeah, Bones. It usually does."

"With the exception of the religious overtones, I think I might be able to tolerate this occasionally," she concluded with a resolved nod of her head.

Booth rolled his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Bones."

"Merry Christmas, Booth," she replied, leaning in and quickly kissing his lips. She continued to trace her fingers absently across the popsicle-sleigh, her other hand clutching the DVD box firmly to her chest.

*~*


	6. Chapter 6

*~*

Presents had been opened and wrappings discarded. Without her extending an invite or them asking, they had all settled into an easy evening routine.

She had made grilled cheese, occasionally stopping to finger the sapphire around her neck in a daze.

Booth had found cocoa – albeit organic – mix in the cupboard, and made steaming mugs for everyone. Parker had commented on the lack of marshmallows and Brennan, in all her wisdom, suggested that Parker accompany her to the market next time, so she would have his favorites on hand.

The young boy readily agreed.

Neither one, so engrossed in their growing friendship, noticed the look of utter adoration on Booth's face as he watched the entire exchange.

Booth had managed to find "White Christmas" on TV and they had all settled onto the couch. Parker had sprawled, his head pillowed on Bones' lap, his feet draped across his father's legs. Brennan had adjusted the blanket, tugging it up around all three of them.

"Bones, do you _really¸ _have to go to Guatemala?" Parker whined sleepily from her lap.

Her fingers continued to play with his hair.

"You and your family have your traditions, Parker. This is my tradition."

"But dad always tells me it's good to try new things." The boy sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Trying new things _is _good, Parker," Brennan agreed.

The younger Booth looked at her momentarily before turning to his father. "We tried a new thing this year," he said to his dad. "Christmas is usually with Mom."

Booth nodded. "Just because we've changed our tradition, Parker, doesn't mean that Bones can. She's got people in Guatemala who are depending on her."

Parker turned his attention back to the woman on his right. "What are you going to do there?"

She paused before answering, trying to find the best way to describe an archaeological dig to a child."A group of scientists are going to a historical sight and we'll be removing bodies and artifacts of ancient civilizations. It'll help us learn more about human history as well as Guatemalan history."

"You're going to go dig up dead-people and their stuff over Christmas?"

She nodded.

"Won't they still be dead after Christmas?"

"Out of the mouths of babes," Booth said, stifling his laughter. He met Bones' eye and half-shrugged, having no desire to chastise his son for what was, in fact, the honest truth.

*~*

She stood next to him in front of the door, his hat and scarf in her hands while he shrugged on his long winter coat.

He turned, facing her full on and, instead of merely handing him his scarf, she moved and draped it around his neck.

Booth stood patiently as she fiddled with the knit fabric. He settled a gentle hand on her hip, effectively stilling her hands.

She tilted her head up and their lips met hesitantly, yet with unerring precision. It was as if they had been kissing each other this gently for years. There was no heated rush, only the desire to kiss as frequently as possible. No lustful grabbing, only loving kisses that explored each other.

"When did this start being something that we _do_?" he questioned between quick kisses.

She pulled back and looked at him skeptically. After all, he _had _been there. He should know. "In the park –with the mistletoe."

Booth half-smiled at her. "When you get back, we should talk," he said softly.

Her tone was entirely uncharacteristic. "Why does that sentence make me apprehensive?"

"Because you think I'm going to run out on you like all the other men in your life."

Her eyes went wide at his blunt statement and she blinked.

"But I'm not," he said firmly. "I'm not, Bones. I just… I just want to make sure _you're _not going to run out." Booth paused and squeezed her hips with his fingers lightly. Guatemala had been her hiding place during his recovery and countless other stressful times in her life.

She stepped away at the sound of smaller feet running through her apartment. Parker had obviously finished washing up in the restroom and was now ready for the drive home.

"All set, Park?" Booth asked, noticing how the distance between them seemed like much more than the two feet of personal space she had given them.

Brennan held out the young boy's coat for him, adjusting it as he struggled to get his arms into the sleeves without his sweater bunching up.

"Thank you for my toys and books," Parker said as Brennan knelt in front of him to help him with his scarf.

"Of course, Parker. I'm glad you liked them."

He threw his arms around her neck and squeezed, receiving a tight squeeze in return. "Bones, next year I think you should tell the Guatemala people to stay buried a while longer. You should do Christmas with us again; this was fun."

"Next year it'll be you and your mother and father again, Parker," Brennan corrected. "You'll be back to your old traditions."

The boy pulled away, shaking his head. He started tugging his hat out of his pocket and pulled it down his head, almost over his eyes.

"Nah. Next year mom will have Brent there, too, I bet. That means that you can come and there will be an even number of grownups."

Brennan grinned at him, adjusting his winter cap before lightly pecking his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Parker," she said simply, avoiding his comments.

"Come on, Bub," Booth said, holding open Brennan's front door and ushering his son out.

"Merry Christmas, Booth," Brennan offered, getting a blinding grin in return. She watched as the two Booths walked away, leaving her with some of the best Christmas memories she had since childhood.

As she shut the door behind them, she turned to her quiet apartment.

Suddenly packing for her trip seemed incredibly unattractive.

*~*


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Last chapter. Thanks so much to all who have reviewed -- they make me so pleased! Thanks for coming along on the journey. This was an exceptionally fun story to write and I enjoyed it!**

**Happy holidays.  
**

*~*

"Dad, what do they do in Guatemala for Christmas?" Parker asked, his hand buried in his father's as the two Booth men strolled from the car towards the apartment building door.

"I dunno, Park," Booth replied. "Maybe have Christmas enchiladas or something. Why don't you ask Bones when she gets back?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "It just seems like it'd be boring. I mean, no tree, no stockings. Does it snow there?"

Booth couldn't help but grin at the questions. "We can email her, Parker. You can ask her as many questions about Guatemala as you want to."

"Ok, but I'll type. You type slow, dad." the boy said, idly brushing snow off the railing to the building steps.

"Deal," Booth replied, pulling open the door and ushering his son into the lobby.

Booth frowned as he opened the door to his apartment. When he left that morning, he was sure he had doused all the lights, yet the lights to the living and dining room shown brightly. More curiously, a fantastic smell wafted through the apartment, making his mouth water.

He blinked twice, not believing his eyes as she stepped tentatively into the living room with a hesitant smile on her face.

"Bones!" Parker sprinted for her, his arms wrapping around her hips and gripping her in a tight hug.

She hugged the boy in return, absently stroking her hand through his blond locks, but gazing across the room at Booth. He smiled at her and winked, watching the uncertainty on her face disappear instantly.

Brennan placed a hand on Parker's shoulder and pulled back slightly so he was looking up into her face. "Parker, why don't you go change out of your church-clothes and wash up? You can help me finish cooking."

The boy grinned before dashing off to his room, a veritable blur through the apartment.

"No Guatemala this year?"

It was impossible for Temperance Brennan to deny the feeling of nervousness that crept in at his simple question. "I decided to try something new this year."

"And 'something new' includes cooking Christmas dinner?" Booth asked, pulling off his thick woolen coat and hanging it on the hook behind the door.

"Yes," she said watching as he pulled the stocking cap off his head, his hair sticking up in all directions.

"You didn't have to do that," he said, closing the distance between the two of them and standing immediately in front of her.

"I know," she said simply. "You don't mind, do you?" She couldn't fight the urge any longer and reached up with her hand, smoothing down his wayward hair.

He shook his head, closing his eyes when her fingers gently scratched his scalp while she groomed him.

Booth reached out, resting a hand gently on her hip. He ducked his head and quickly caressed her lips with his own. "Thank you," he said the breathy words against her ear. He stepped back and grinned at the light blush that had fallen across her cheeks. "I honestly didn't know what we'd do this year – usually Rebecca cooks while Parker and I go to Mass. Thank you. We probably would have ended up with Turkey platter at the diner. This is …" Booth trailed off, searching for the right words.

She shrugged and moved back into the kitchen to check one of the pots simmering on the stove. "Not running was easier than I thought," she said in a voice softer than a whisper as she walked away.

Booth shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as she stirred the simmering green beans. Her words had reached his ears and caused a gentle smile to grace his lips.

Parker sprinted past his father, having changed from his church-suit into a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He immediately settled himself next to Brennan at the stove, listening while she spoke instructions softly into his ear.

Neither noticed either Booth's silent departure or return until he called their names.

Brennan, still ducking next to Parker's ear, tilted her head up with an inquisitive smile. Parker, looked up at the sound of their names, a truly loving look on his face.

They both blinked from the blinding flash from Booth's camera and Temperance rolled her eyes.

"You could have given me some warning," she chastised, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear in an entirely uncharacteristic display of self-consciousness.

Booth pinned her with a firm glare and ignored her remark.

"Perfect," he murmured to himself, looking at the digital display on his camera. The moment had been captured perfectly and Booth knew that his desk had the perfect place for what was now his new-favorite-photo.

"Bones, can I mash the potatoes now?" Parker asked pulling the adult's attention back to the feast still requiring finishing touches.

She nodded. "Of course, Parker." Brennan pulled a chair from the nearby table to the counter so he could kneel and get better leverage for mashing. While he was growing so quickly, he still hadn't quite reached the height where he could work on the counter's surface without just a few extra inches.

She held out a maternal steadying hand as the boy scrambled up into the chair and, once he was settled and happily pummeling the potatoes for all they were worth, she turned back towards Booth.

The look on his face took her breath away. It was a mix of wry amusement, understanding and something else she couldn't quite name.

She strode across the small kitchen towards the living room, but wasn't able to make it past his figure blocking the doorway.

His arm shot out in front of her, catching her by the hip and pulling her flush to his frame.

Booth sighed contentedly, feeling her hands come up, resting just below his shoulders, to steady herself. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her temple and felt her relax into his impromptu embrace.

"This has got to be a million times better than Guatemala," He whispered and felt her faint chuckle against his chest.

"They each have their advantages," she replied, sliding her hands slowly down from his shoulders and around his waist, her arms tucked under his suit-jacket.

He stood for a few moments, enjoying the feel of her in his arms and he slowly drank in his surroundings. She had taken the time to set the dinner table with a festive red table cloth he knew she didn't find in his apartment and candles. Had it not been for the Frosty-the-Snowman glasses and plates that he and Parker used this time of year, he would have thought it was a romantic dinner, not a holiday family meal.

It was perfect.

"I think there's a dig in March, as well as one in December." Her voice was deceptively even and, had he not been wrapped in her arms and able to feel the slight tension in there, he would have thought it a simple statement as opposed to the conversation starter it really was.

Wisely, he chose to wait for her to volunteer her next thought. And he was rewarded. "Perhaps I could attend the March dig instead of the one during the holidays."

Booth nodded, feeling her hair slip against the very light stubble on his check that had snuck in since his early shave. "It'd be nice to have you around for the holidays," he agreed.

"I've enjoyed some of the festivities."

"I thought you might."

"They're culturally fascinating, Booth. The Christian history is long-lasting and spans numerous cultures. The American celebration is truly a unique blend of several different societies' takes on the holiday."

Seeley pulled her away, slightly, able to meet her eye. "Bones, it's completely ok to enjoy a holiday just for the sake of enjoying it. No anthropology needed."

"But –"

She was silenced when his lips covered hers. And she felt her eyes close involuntarily as her body demanded she enjoy the sensation and not analyze.

Booth pulled away, too aware of his young son's presence to deepen the kiss.

"Did you want to have that discussion now? Since I didn't go to Guatemala?" Her voice was soft and filled with concern.

Booth knew that she had the same fears that he did. They both dreaded not being good enough for someone else. They both dreaded yet another person walking out on them. They both worried about too-much-too-soon, though for him it was all about too much sex and for her it was all about too much emotion.

Booth shook his head. "Not right now. For now, we enjoy this fantastic Christmas feast that was made by someone I care very much about," he said, letting her turn in his arms and view the beautifully set table in front of them. "And after that… maybe we shouldn't talk it to death, Bones."

She felt his words brush by her ear and the sensation sent a chill down her spin. His hands were wrapped around her from behind, holding her tight to him. She covered his hands with her own. "Perhaps discussion-as-we-go is the best approach?"

The 'as we go' portion of her statement had light a small fire of hope for him. Hope that this was more than just loneliness inspired by the holidays. Hope that it was more than just a reaction to a mistletoe tradition.

Booth nodded and ever so softly kissed her cheek. "We'll go one day at a time."


End file.
